Indavidual Destinay
by Wacky-Writer2
Summary: A young girl named Gemma King ventures through life in an unusual way. She comes along soft and rough times. Then those times decide to stop. As well as Gemma's heart.
1. The Typewriter

Dear Journal, Today my Grandpa King was murdered. We went to his funeral today too. I miss him a lot. Everyone around here knows who killed him. It was Freddie Mollhanomn. Freddie is racist. We are black, and he hates blacks. It runs in his family. But then why do we live here? Well, that's an easy question to answer; it's because it is so cheap around here. And my papa used to work here. My father was murdered too. I miss them both very much. I have a younger brother, Timmy King who is frightened by Fred. His family is in the police biz. His father, three brothers, one uncle, and five of his friends are in the police biz. That is ten out of fifteen officers. So the majority ain't so fine. Okay, my Momma is calling. I must go now. Bye.  
  
~~LOVE, GEMMA KISMET KING~~  
  
"Yes Momma? I am coming! Hold on!" I rushed down stairs with a thump, thump. "There you are Gemma. What were you doing? Not writing again I hope. Sweetie, fetch me a cold rag." Momma walked to the opposite side of the kitchen as she dry one cup for her morning tea. "Yes Momma." I said with a slight smirk on my face. Then I went to fetch the rag. I opened the drawer and handed it to her. "Thank you dear. Now wake up your brother." "Okay." I was about to run upstairs when Momma stopped me. "Wait. Did you do your homework?" "Yes Momma. And I helped Timmy with his too." "I wont be home when you get home I am working late today. I won't be home until tomorrow afternoon. I will be here when you get home tomorrow after school." She sounded worried as if she was terrified of leaving Timmy and me alone. "Okay Momma." I said with a stare. "Gem. Take care of your brother, do your homework, stay out of trouble, and brush those teeth of yours. That goes for Timmy too." She said it all staring straight down at me. I was petrified at the thought that she was scared. Not that of Timmy and me, but of something else.more terrifying than the death of my father. "Okay Momma. Is that it?" "Yes. Bye sweet heart. Be careful. Watch out for that Fred freak okay?" "Bye Momma." "Gemma? Do you know why I named you Gemma?" "No." I was beginning to think Momma was never coming back, or something of the sort. "Well, Gemma means a flower that separates from its 'mother' to become an individual, and you sure are one beautiful individual." "Momma." "No, really. You are my daughter Gemma Kismet King." "What does Kissmat stand for?" "Not Kissmat.Kismet. Kismet means fate or destiny. Your fate is something that just might help us all." "Really?" "Really. Oh, I am going to be late. Gotta go. I love you. See you tomorrow afternoon." "Okay Momma. I love you too. Bye." "I love you three. Tell Timmy I said bye. Bye." Then she left just like that. I really hope that I was wrong about her not coming back. "Ha! Finally. Timmy! Timmy! Timmy wake up!" I was too tired from the conversation with Momma to go all the way upstairs. "I'm up! I'm up!" He said loud and clear, yet a sigh was brought along with it. "Get down here." I yelled it so loud I could barley breath. He walked down the stairs in his bunny PJ's. He ate up his cereal and ran back upstairs. I am still eating. Timmy and I got dressed; I packed our lunch, and brushed our teeth. I grabbed my money that I had saved for a whole two months. I had five dollars. What was I going to buy? I know exactly what I am going to buy. Timmy and I left early so that we could take the long way instead of the short way by Fred's house. On the way to school I told Timmy about Momma. He didn't seem to care. He was just rushing to get to school. I wonder why? I mean I was rushing because I wanted to get to the store afterwards. Why was he? How unusual. Oh well, no need to spend all of my time thinking about Timmy. My brain energy was settled on the shopping spree I was going on after school. We got to school right on time. After school I ran toward Timmy's classroom and I grabbed him. We ran all the way to the market. "Gemma? What are we doing here? We don't have any money." He was so confused and didn't know at all what he would buy even if he did have money. "Yeah I do. I have five dollars!" I was so happy of the words that came out of my mouth. "Wow. How did you get all of that money?" "I have been saving for a week. I found three dollars and won the other two with a bet. I bet Geniria. I guessed the right capital of Texas. She guessed El Paso. I guessed right Houston." My intelligence is remarkable. "Wow. What are you going to get with it?" "Everything.that I can afford." We ran around the store. I bought three sodas for one dollar (Super size 50 oz). A box of Ferns (a cereal) for fifty cents. I bought a sweater for Timmy, my mother, and me for only three dollars. I saved the rest. We were on our way home when I saw it. I saw the best thing. The thing I wanted so badly. A Typewriter, but it was twenty dollars. I had to buy the paper and ink for forty dollars total. Wow! I thought. I had to make that money. I ran over to Mrs.Vatelo's shop. "Mrs.Vatelo?" I said in my sweet and innocent voice. "Yes Gemma?" She had known me long enough to know that my sweet voice was just a hoax. "Can I help you with anything for cash?" I was so nervous to ask. "I see you saw the typewriter. Sure, if you and your brother want to carry those boxes into the wagon and take them to The Market. Then sweep, dust, and organize this pity of a shop. Then go down in the wine cellar and get some fine wine for me to sell. Then you will get fifty dollars split. Is that a deal?" "Yeah! Come on Timmy. Let's get started." I was tired, but I worked along side with Timmy. Timmy and I worked until five o' clock. We each got our twenty-five dollars and went home. We did our homework, ate dinner, and are now watching television..when Timmy spilt his soda. "Timmy! Look what you did! You spilt your soda!" "I am so sorry." He was crying so hard it made a bigger stain the spilt soda. "Sorry! Momma's going to kill me!" "Okay." Timmy ran out with the fifty dollars in his pocket. Along the way Timmy encountered Freddie. "He, he, he, he, he, foolish child. Now I ask you, what is your name?" "None of your biz you overgrown rat." Timmy said the wrong thing to the wrong person. After that statement Freddie was furious. Freddie took out his bat and smashed Timmy in the head. Luckily it was only enough to put Timmy out for a few minutes. Timmy fell to the ground. Freddie began to dig in his pockets for cash, but thought Timmy wouldn't have any so stopped. So then Freddie went back into his house. About ten minutes later Timmy woke up. He was on his way home when he saw the typewriter, and went in to buy it. He bought the typewriter, ink, paper, a journal, pencils, a pencil sharpener, and a book. He had spent all fifty dollars. Then he ran home. "There you are. I got the stain out. What happen to you?" I was worried sick about him wondering off, but that bruise didn't help much. "Freddie." "You went by Freddie's house?" "Yeah." "Why?" "I had to run." "Let's get some ice for that." "Ohhhh...! That feels so good." "What is that?" "Oh, this is your typewriter, pencils, sharpener, journal, a book, paper, and ink. All fifty dollars spent for you." "Really." I couldn't believe it. I'm so happy. I could scream. AHHHHHHHH! "Really. Really." "Oh thank you so much! I'll go put this away." I was having so much fun on my new typewriter. I wished that I could never have to stop. The next day was pretty much the same. Well, I passed my math test, and wel,l we were so eager to see Momma. "Hello! Anybody home?" "Yeah Momma.Timmy and me!" "Oh, Timmy what happen to you? I know what happen to you, your irresponsible big sister let you out of her sight, and you walked to Fred's house and got your face thrown at the ground! I am furious. I brought you something home to eat, and I thought you'd be able to actually eat it. Now where is your sister I need to speak with her?" "She's upstairs. Momma, it wasn't her fault, it was mine. I am sorry Momma." "No, I am afraid that it is not your fault, it is mine. I should have known not to leave a seven-year old in charge of a house, and a five- year old! Yet, you shouldn't have gone to Fred's house, and she shouldn't have let you. So it's all our faults! Gemma!" "Hold on one sec." "No.now!" "Hold on!" "Gemma Kismet King! Get your ass down here. Please! I want to give you a gift." "Okay, I'm coming." "Good." "Yeah Momma?" "Ha. Finally. Now, I don't know what happened, but I.I. brought home some food." "Ha, no thanks Momma. I am satiated." "No time for jokes." "But." "No butts!" "You got a lot of things to do." "Huh?" "You're grounded!" "What! Why?" "You know why. I want you to clean the house." "Ha, ha, Gems." "You too Timmy." "What goes around comes around." I knew that was a good time to use that. My favorite expression, and I used it. Yeah! "Get to work." "Momma that's no fair!" Timmy and I said that at the same time with the same angry expressions on our faces. "Yes it is!" Then she left the room with a one slight movement of the head. "I do not appreciate the way you treat me. I deserve more than this you know? We all do!" And with that she left and walked up the stairs into her room. "I don't hear cleaning!" Right away we started and we finished. It was exaghsting, then Timmy fell asleep while he was vacuuming. Well, off to bed now. The next day I awoke in the sound of screaming or was it cheering. My eyes were so droopy that I couldn't even see out of them. I got out of my bed and then I limped to the door. I opened it and there she was. My Momma was just siting there crying. I had no idea on what was going on. I was very confused. I asked her but she wouldn't answer. "Momma? Are you okay? I am going to make some breakfast. Is that ok? I will make pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Momma? Where is Timmy?" "Sweetie he's asleep. You should go back to bed. It is four in the morning." "Then why..." "Just go to bed now!" "Okay Momma." I didn't follow her directions, instead I started to type on my typewriter again:  
  
  
  
  
  
Daisies and flowers are all about,  
  
Surely I can even catch a trout, My heart and soul are evenly spread, It was pulled by a single thread, Only it is breakable, Shall love in me be remarkable.?  
  
Dear journal, This is my twelth page already, and I love it. Writing can really set you free. I do miss my Momma. She is in the hall and she is crying. I have no idea why, but it might have something to do with the people yelling. I don't know what about, but I'll soon find out. Well, it maybe 4:23, but I can't sleep now. Why must this be so hard on me? Why must I have such a hard time understanding everything? I have tried so hard to be nice and understanding to everyone. People just seem to be very.very.very into themselves these days. I mean...since 1960 when I was born, I seemed to have had a very hard time. Laughing is what I am doing now. Funny isn't it. I have too many hardships in life. I mean I am only seven years old. Why must people be so selfish? Not saying I am not selfish, but it is just not right for people to treat others like they do because of differences. This girl name Sakigh Harash, has a mental problem all everyone does is make fun of her. I have been accused of cheating on a spelling test. One of our words where solitude (it means longing). But my teacher thinks I cheated! How could I? Just because I was. in the class when she was making the test doesn't mean I was cheating. I would never. Now it is 4:45! I have been typing for about an hour. I have so many things to do. My mom is thinking of sending me to camp! Not just any camp, but Camp Beetleswipe! Well, I must go now because I have school in.an hour! Laugh out loud! Good bye for a while. Thank you so much for being a good typewriter. BYE!  
  
~~LOVE, GEMMA KISMET KING~~ 


	2. Camp Beetleswipe

Dear Journal, Today my Grandpa King was murdered. We went to his funeral today too. I miss him a lot. Everyone around here knows who killed him. It was Freddie Mollhanomn. Freddie is racist. We are black, and he hates blacks. It runs in his family. But then why do we live here? Well, that's an easy question to answer; it's because it is so cheap around here. And my papa used to work here. My father was murdered too. I miss them both very much. I have a younger brother, Timmy King who is frightened by Fred. His family is in the police biz. His father, three brothers, one uncle, and five of his friends are in the police biz. That is ten out of fifteen officers. So the majority ain't so fine. Okay, my Momma is calling. I must go now. Bye.  
  
~~LOVE, GEMMA KISMET KING~~  
  
"Yes Momma? I am coming! Hold on!" I rushed down stairs with a thump, thump. "There you are Gemma. What were you doing? Not writing again I hope. Sweetie, fetch me a cold rag." Momma walked to the opposite side of the kitchen as she dry one cup for her morning tea. "Yes Momma." I said with a slight smirk on my face. Then I went to fetch the rag. I opened the drawer and handed it to her. "Thank you dear. Now wake up your brother." "Okay." I was about to run upstairs when Momma stopped me. "Wait. Did you do your homework?" "Yes Momma. And I helped Timmy with his too." "I wont be home when you get home I am working late today. I won't be home until tomorrow afternoon. I will be here when you get home tomorrow after school." She sounded worried as if she was terrified of leaving Timmy and me alone. "Okay Momma." I said with a stare. "Gem. Take care of your brother, do your homework, stay out of trouble, and brush those teeth of yours. That goes for Timmy too." She said it all staring straight down at me. I was petrified at the thought that she was scared. Not that of Timmy and me, but of something else.more terrifying than the death of my father. "Okay Momma. Is that it?" "Yes. Bye sweet heart. Be careful. Watch out for that Fred freak okay?" "Bye Momma." "Gemma? Do you know why I named you Gemma?" "No." I was beginning to think Momma was never coming back, or something of the sort. "Well, Gemma means a flower that separates from its 'mother' to become an individual, and you sure are one beautiful individual." "Momma." "No, really. You are my daughter Gemma Kismet King." "What does Kissmat stand for?" "Not Kissmat.Kismet. Kismet means fate or destiny. Your fate is something that just might help us all." "Really?" "Really. Oh, I am going to be late. Gotta go. I love you. See you tomorrow afternoon." "Okay Momma. I love you too. Bye." "I love you three. Tell Timmy I said bye. Bye." Then she left just like that. I really hope that I was wrong about her not coming back. "Ha! Finally. Timmy! Timmy! Timmy wake up!" I was too tired from the conversation with Momma to go all the way upstairs. "I'm up! I'm up!" He said loud and clear, yet a sigh was brought along with it. "Get down here." I yelled it so loud I could barley breath. He walked down the stairs in his bunny PJ's. He ate up his cereal and ran back upstairs. I am still eating. Timmy and I got dressed; I packed our lunch, and brushed our teeth. I grabbed my money that I had saved for a whole two months. I had five dollars. What was I going to buy? I know exactly what I am going to buy. Timmy and I left early so that we could take the long way instead of the short way by Fred's house. On the way to school I told Timmy about Momma. He didn't seem to care. He was just rushing to get to school. I wonder why? I mean I was rushing because I wanted to get to the store afterwards. Why was he? How unusual. Oh well, no need to spend all of my time thinking about Timmy. My brain energy was settled on the shopping spree I was going on after school. We got to school right on time. After school I ran toward Timmy's classroom and I grabbed him. We ran all the way to the market. "Gemma? What are we doing here? We don't have any money." He was so confused and didn't know at all what he would buy even if he did have money. "Yeah I do. I have five dollars!" I was so happy of the words that came out of my mouth. "Wow. How did you get all of that money?" "I have been saving for a week. I found three dollars and won the other two with a bet. I bet Geniria. I guessed the right capital of Texas. She guessed El Paso. I guessed right Houston." My intelligence is remarkable. "Wow. What are you going to get with it?" "Everything.that I can afford." We ran around the store. I bought three sodas for one dollar (Super size 50 oz). A box of Ferns (a cereal) for fifty cents. I bought a sweater for Timmy, my mother, and me for only three dollars. I saved the rest. We were on our way home when I saw it. I saw the best thing. The thing I wanted so badly. A Typewriter, but it was twenty dollars. I had to buy the paper and ink for forty dollars total. Wow! I thought. I had to make that money. I ran over to Mrs.Vatelo's shop. "Mrs.Vatelo?" I said in my sweet and innocent voice. "Yes Gemma?" She had known me long enough to know that my sweet voice was just a hoax. "Can I help you with anything for cash?" I was so nervous to ask. "I see you saw the typewriter. Sure, if you and your brother want to carry those boxes into the wagon and take them to The Market. Then sweep, dust, and organize this pity of a shop. Then go down in the wine cellar and get some fine wine for me to sell. Then you will get fifty dollars split. Is that a deal?" "Yeah! Come on Timmy. Let's get started." I was tired, but I worked along side with Timmy. Timmy and I worked until five o' clock. We each got our twenty-five dollars and went home. We did our homework, ate dinner, and are now watching television..when Timmy spilt his soda. "Timmy! Look what you did! You spilt your soda!" "I am so sorry." He was crying so hard it made a bigger stain the spilt soda. "Sorry! Momma's going to kill me!" "Okay." Timmy ran out with the fifty dollars in his pocket. Along the way Timmy encountered Freddie. "He, he, he, he, he, foolish child. Now I ask you, what is your name?" "None of your biz you overgrown rat." Timmy said the wrong thing to the wrong person. After that statement Freddie was furious. Freddie took out his bat and smashed Timmy in the head. Luckily it was only enough to put Timmy out for a few minutes. Timmy fell to the ground. Freddie began to dig in his pockets for cash, but thought Timmy wouldn't have any so stopped. So then Freddie went back into his house. About ten minutes later Timmy woke up. He was on his way home when he saw the typewriter, and went in to buy it. He bought the typewriter, ink, paper, a journal, pencils, a pencil sharpener, and a book. He had spent all fifty dollars. Then he ran home. "There you are. I got the stain out. What happen to you?" I was worried sick about him wondering off, but that bruise didn't help much. "Freddie." "You went by Freddie's house?" "Yeah." "Why?" "I had to run." "Let's get some ice for that." "Ohhhh...! That feels so good." "What is that?" "Oh, this is your typewriter, pencils, sharpener, journal, a book, paper, and ink. All fifty dollars spent for you." "Really." I couldn't believe it. I'm so happy. I could scream. AHHHHHHHH! "Really. Really." "Oh thank you so much! I'll go put this away." I was having so much fun on my new typewriter. I wished that I could never have to stop. The next day was pretty much the same. Well, I passed my math test, and wel,l we were so eager to see Momma. "Hello! Anybody home?" "Yeah Momma.Timmy and me!" "Oh, Timmy what happen to you? I know what happen to you, your irresponsible big sister let you out of her sight, and you walked to Fred's house and got your face thrown at the ground! I am furious. I brought you something home to eat, and I thought you'd be able to actually eat it. Now where is your sister I need to speak with her?" "She's upstairs. Momma, it wasn't her fault, it was mine. I am sorry Momma." "No, I am afraid that it is not your fault, it is mine. I should have known not to leave a seven-year old in charge of a house, and a five- year old! Yet, you shouldn't have gone to Fred's house, and she shouldn't have let you. So it's all our faults! Gemma!" "Hold on one sec." "No.now!" "Hold on!" "Gemma Kismet King! Get your ass down here. Please! I want to give you a gift." "Okay, I'm coming." "Good." "Yeah Momma?" "Ha. Finally. Now, I don't know what happened, but I.I. brought home some food." "Ha, no thanks Momma. I am satiated." "No time for jokes." "But." "No butts!" "You got a lot of things to do." "Huh?" "You're grounded!" "What! Why?" "You know why. I want you to clean the house." "Ha, ha, Gems." "You too Timmy." "What goes around comes around." I knew that was a good time to use that. My favorite expression, and I used it. Yeah! "Get to work." "Momma that's no fair!" Timmy and I said that at the same time with the same angry expressions on our faces. "Yes it is!" Then she left the room with a one slight movement of the head. "I do not appreciate the way you treat me. I deserve more than this you know? We all do!" And with that she left and walked up the stairs into her room. "I don't hear cleaning!" Right away we started and we finished. It was exaghsting, then Timmy fell asleep while he was vacuuming. Well, off to bed now. The next day I awoke in the sound of screaming or was it cheering. My eyes were so droopy that I couldn't even see out of them. I got out of my bed and then I limped to the door. I opened it and there she was. My Momma was just siting there crying. I had no idea on what was going on. I was very confused. I asked her but she wouldn't answer. "Momma? Are you okay? I am going to make some breakfast. Is that ok? I will make pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Momma? Where is Timmy?" "Sweetie he's asleep. You should go back to bed. It is four in the morning." "Then why..." "Just go to bed now!" "Okay Momma." I didn't follow her directions, instead I started to type on my typewriter again:  
  
  
  
  
  
Daisies and flowers are all about,  
  
Surely I can even catch a trout, My heart and soul are evenly spread, It was pulled by a single thread, Only it is breakable, Shall love in me be remarkable.?  
  
Dear journal, This is my twelth page already, and I love it. Writing can really set you free. I do miss my Momma. She is in the hall and she is crying. I have no idea why, but it might have something to do with the people yelling. I don't know what about, but I'll soon find out. Well, it maybe 4:23, but I can't sleep now. Why must this be so hard on me? Why must I have such a hard time understanding everything? I have tried so hard to be nice and understanding to everyone. People just seem to be very.very.very into themselves these days. I mean...since 1960 when I was born, I seemed to have had a very hard time. Laughing is what I am doing now. Funny isn't it. I have too many hardships in life. I mean I am only seven years old. Why must people be so selfish? Not saying I am not selfish, but it is just not right for people to treat others like they do because of differences. This girl name Sakigh Harash, has a mental problem all everyone does is make fun of her. I have been accused of cheating on a spelling test. One of our words where solitude (it means longing). But my teacher thinks I cheated! How could I? Just because I was. in the class when she was making the test doesn't mean I was cheating. I would never. Now it is 4:45! I have been typing for about an hour. I have so many things to do. My mom is thinking of sending me to camp! Not just any camp, but Camp Beetleswipe! Well, I must go now because I have school in.an hour! Laugh out loud! Good bye for a while. Thank you so much for being a good typewriter. BYE!  
  
~~LOVE, GEMMA KISMET KING~~ 


End file.
